“Don’t do something girly like cry,” he ordered. “I mean it.” Her lips twitched. He’d said it like the force of his formidable will alone could stop tears from falling. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. “You mean it, huh?” “Yes. I don’t want snot on my tee.” God, he was just about the only person who could make her want to smile when she was down in the dumps. “And here I was thinking you were worrying about my itty, bitty feelings.” “The potential of snot stains worries me more. But your feelings come a close second to my tee.”
